


White Blank Page

by breakingyourpromise



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Arson, BAMF Stiles, Character Death, Implied Character Death, Implied Relationship, M/M, Other, dark!stiles, mentions of torture, not that violent, only sort of, past relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-03
Updated: 2013-04-03
Packaged: 2017-12-07 09:00:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/746707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breakingyourpromise/pseuds/breakingyourpromise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The only thing the law knew about him was that he was a 5’11 caucasian male in a beat-up red hoodie that left behind a trail of severed bodies wherever he went.</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Blank Page

**Author's Note:**

> See notes at the end for my backstory to this.
> 
> I blame orisek for not stopping me when I told her I was going to write dark!stiles and thank her so much for putting up with me as I wrote it.

_Boy with a broken soul._  
 _Heart with a gaping hole._  
 _Dark twisted fantasy turned to reality._  
 _Kissing death and losing my breath_. 

-  Bones, MS MR

* * *

 

Stiles knew the law better than anything else. Perks of being the Sheriff’s kid. 

He knew right from wrong. His mother had taught it to him before she died. And then his father had reminded him over and over again with every criminal he caught.

And then his father had been ripped to pieces right in front of him. 

So now Stiles used his intimate knowledge of the law to avoid it. The only thing the law knew about him was that he was a 5’11 caucasian male in a beat-up red hoodie that left behind a trail of severed bodies wherever he went. 

It was poetic. 

So was setting Derek’s house on fire. 

Of course, Stiles gave him plenty of time to get out. He also made sure that the rest of the pack was no-where close. It wouldn’t do to have his old friends interrupt him re-connecting with his alpha. 

He leant against a tree, just inside the edge of forest as Derek stumbled out of his house. Stiles hadn’t been there when the pack had finished re-building it. It had looked good though.

Stiles could see Derek’s face, illuminated by the fire as it covered the house. His eyes were wide but not red yet, shoulders slumped inwards and shaking. The general sound of a three story house burning to the ground prevented Stiles from hearing any noise Derek was making, but then again, Derek was probably silent. 

Stiles stepped out into the clearing as the house gave a loud creak, straining under the fire, and Derek stumbled back. “Fancy running into you here.” Stiles held his bat loosely in one hand, letting it hang harmlessly by his side.

“ _Stiles?”_  

Derek’s voice was so full of pain and disbelief that Stiles felt like he should have winced. He forced a frown. 

“You don’t sound happy to see me.” He swung his bat in a slow circle and Derek’s eyes immediately locked onto it. Just like Stiles knew they would.

“You,” Derek swallowed, eyes flicking back to the house, “you’re burning down my _house_.” 

“ _Technically_ , the raging inferno is doing that.” Stiles ran a finger down his bat and shot Derek a quick grin, all white, human, teeth. “I just started it.”

Derek stumbled back as a loud bang came from the house. “What -” 

“Don’t worry, that’s just the ceilings giving out. It’s probably a little closer to a one story house now.”  Stiles took a few steps closer, still swinging the bat at his side. Derek stared at his house, dread pulling the corners of his mouth down.

Derek whipped around to look at him, eyes wide and entire body heaving as his breathing  sped up. His eyes were flashing red now, but not by choice. His control was already breaking.

“You _left_.” Derek pointed a finger at him but there was no strength behind it.   

“ _You_ let them kill my dad,” Stiles pointed the bat at him. He’d gotten close enough that it nearly touched Derek’s chest. “And _torture_ me.” 

Derek opened and closed his jaw for a moment, and when it was clear he had nothing to say, Stiles kept talking. “It was a real _dick_ _move_ , Derek. I thought we had something special, y’know?” Stiles started circling Derek who was still staring at where Stiles had just been standing. “But you just let them _take_ me.”  

Derek jolted, hazel eyes snapping to meet brown. “No, I - ”

Derek _heard_ his ribs crack when the bat hit. He doubled over and sunk to the grass, arms wrapped around his torso, coughing, stars flashing across his vision.

“Stiles,” Derek wheezed, spat out blood, and then looked up at him. There was blood on his chin. Stiles _hit_ him.   

“When they hit _me_ in the ribs mine broke,” Stiles stood over Derek, close enough that he could easily have been pulled down, and tilted his head to the side as he met Derek’s eyes without blinking. “Breathing was a _bitch_.”

Derek’s eyes flashed red again and when he opened his mouth to speak Stiles raised his bat. It came down on Derek’s right shoulder, dislocating it, yanking out a howl of pain that made Stiles’ heart race. Claws had come out but Derek only dug them into the ground as he fell forward. He held himself up with his uninjured arm, breathing hard enough that Stiles could hear it. 

Stiles watched the bones slide back into place. 

“That must be great.” Stiles rested the bat on Derek’s shoulder, the same one he just hit, and Derek flinched with his whole body but didn’t move away. “Does the pain disappear as soon as it heals?”

Stiles had his eyes focused on the brown of the wood against the white of Derek’s shirt but he could see Derek staring at him out of the corner of his eye. Stiles pressed the tip against Derek’s jaw in warning when he didn’t answer.

“Not immediately,” Derek was talking around his canines even as they shrunk back into his mouth, “It fades slowly.”

“ _Slowly_.” Stiles spat, anger stabbing through him quick and unexpected. He should have expected it though. He may have been able to keep his emotions in check with every other wolf he’s killed but not Derek.

Never Derek.

“Stiles -” 

Stiles didn’t want to hear him speak any more. He swung his bat into Derek’s face, the crack as it hit more effective than Adderall had ever been. 

Derek’s attempt to howl this time was nothing more than a low whine in the back of his throat, barely audible over the sound of the roof finally caving under the fire. A wave of heat blew out, causing Derek to cringe. Stiles didn’t even flinch. He turned to look at the house, sweat was beading on his upper lip as he stared. 

“None of you even looked for me.” Stiles was looking at the fire, watching as it curled itself around the wood, but he was seeing his father.

His father, face twisted with horror as the alpha grew teeth right in front of him. His father, trying to shuffle away as she let her claws out. His father, _screaming_ for Stiles to shut his eyes. 

Stiles turned and throwing all of his weight behind the bat as it struck the other side of Derek’s jaw. “He was my _father_.”

Stiles’ chest was heaving, vision blurring as he stood over Derek. Derek who was re-setting his jaw with one clawed hand and holding himself up with the other. Claws that were receding just as quickly as teeth had.

“They didn’t leave a scent for us to follow,” Derek was speaking quickly, rushing his words out before Stiles could strike again. “We _tried_ but we couldn’t, and they had Boyd and Erica, and -”

“Shut _up_ , Derek.”  

Derek snapped his perfectly healed jaw shut. 

“I’ve been gone for three years. _Years_.” Stiles crouched to look Derek in the eye, leaning on his bat that had been hanging at his side again. “In all that time, not even a text message. From _any_ of you. That’s a little _rude_ don’t you think?” Stiles tilted his head to the side, kept his voice light, but his eyes sparked with danger.  

His eyes had Derek’s breath hitching and his entire body recoiling. Because Stiles’ eyes were completely terrifying.

Derek had loved when Stiles’ eyes lit up. When he laughed, when he wanted sex, when they’d order take-out after pack meetings, every time Derek made some stupid joke. But he _hated_ this. There was no upward quirk of his lips, no raised eyebrow, nothing. Just his eyes.

“You wanted to go.” Derek couldn’t maintain eye contact because _they weren’t Stiles’ eyes_. Stiles didn’t ever look at him like that. 

“You let everyone go, don’t you?” Stiles’ voice was light as he stood up again. Derek didn’t look up at him but he could practically _feel_ the mocking smile that was on Stiles’ face. 

He flinched.

“You let the alphas go,” Stiles ghosted the tip of the bat up Derek’s arm and he tensed but didn’t move away. He would never move away. 

“You let Peter go.” He tapped the bat against the same should her had dislocated before. Derek flinched again.

“You let me go.” The fire was starting to die down, running out of fuel to burn. “You’re real chivalrous, Derek.” Stiles carded his hand through Derek’s hair, petting him, and Derek sucked in a sharp breath. “You aren’t even fighting back now when you could probably rip my throat out in two seconds flat,” Stiles used his grip in Derek’s hair to yank his head back, forcing eye contact, “with your _teeth_.”

Derek shut his eyes but didn’t try to dislodge Stiles’ hand. Stiles twisted, pulling, but Derek remained still. He didn’t move when Stiles removed his hand, didn’t get a chance to, before pain was exploding in his arms.

His eyes snapped open and he was snarling before he could get control of himself. Stiles was looking down at him, and Derek tried to force his body to relax. He could feel his arms trying to heal around the long silver knives Stiles had stabbed through his biceps. “Fight. Back.” 

He was hissing, low and angry, and Derek was gasping because there was wolfsbane on those knives and he could feel it burning him from the inside, but he shook his head. Stiles clenched his jaw, twisting the knife in his left bicep. “ _Fight me back_.”

Derek tipped his head back, howling his pain against his will. “No.” It was barely above a whisper but Stiles seemed to have heard him any way. 

He twisted the other knife and then stepped back, leaving them in place. Derek looked down and saw the blue smoke curling away from the wounds that had stopped healing. He could smell the wolfsbane and felt his body trying to shift in response. He shut his eyes tight, focusing on every good memory he had with Stiles. He wasn’t going to shift.

“Der, they killed my _dad_ and you _let them go_.” Stiles’ voice was soft, like it used to be. Derek snapped his head up, mouth already open to speak, but was caught off guard by the tears in Stiles’ eyes.  

Stiles was _crying_.

“They wouldn’t have let you go if I didn’t. Stiles I had to get you back, I couldn’t let you die. I _couldn’t_.” His voice was more animal than human, pain making him growl against his will. He tried pulling one of the knives out but the handle burnt his hand and he snarled again.

“It’s ok though, Der,” his voice cheerful, even though his hands had started shaking at his sides, “I killed them. And you never got me back. _Because you let me go_.” Stiles’ grin was nothing like it used to be, too much teeth and anger. 

Derek dug his claws into the dirt, gasping as the action caused the muscles in his arms to flex. Muscles that currently had silver and wolfsbane running through them. “Stiles, _please_.”   

Derek would beg. He would if it meant getting Stiles back. _His_ Stiles. Because he’d given him up once and there was no way he could do it again.

“I can’t.” Stiles’ voice was light, empty of emotion, and when Derek scanned his face he found it blank. “Even if I took out the knives, there’s no antidote. Not here.” 

The whimper was yanked from Derek’s throat. He dug his claws in harder, whining as a loud crash echoed in his skull. The house had completely given in, the fire fading away. 

“Stiles -” 

Whiteness was taking over Derek’s vision. His chest hurt and he couldn’t get any air into his lungs. His arms were burning and his throat was raw and his head was pounding. 

“- come _back_.”  

Stiles used to love watching Derek’s eyes glaze over. Right before he fell asleep, after he came, when Scott would start speaking about Allison, during every romantic movie Lydia made them watch. 

But he _hated_ the blankness he was looking at now. 

* * *

_But tell me now, where was my fault,_   
_In loving you with my whole heart?_

\- White Blank Page, Mumford and Sons

* * *

 

My [tumblr](breakingyourpromise.tumblr.com).  

**Author's Note:**

> So, the Alpha pack caught Stiles because they know he's important to Derek and can be used as a bargaining chip. Derek's pack had been kicking their butts (mostly because I refuse to believe anything less will happen in S3). Then they told Sheriff where he was in a ransom note, something the Sheriff will obviously charge in to investigate. They kill the deputies he brought with him and beat him up a little before bringing him to where Stiles is tied up. Then they kill him as in the fic. Prior to this, Sheriff was blissfully unaware of the existence of werewolves. After Stiles watches his dad die, he is roughed up a little (a lot) and Derek is told that they'll give Stiles back if he lets them leave town. 
> 
> Sterek is implied. They obviously broke up when Stiles got out of hospital (I'm thinking coma-esque for at least a week) and found out they'd been allowed to leave without being harmed. Thus, he leaves town and goes on hunt for them, sort of like crazy!Allison when she kicked Erica and Boyd's butt.


End file.
